Saying Goodbye
by RobinL
Summary: Ranger turns to Stephanie for comfort when his father passes away. Babe story. Rating is being upgraded due to language and future content.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Saying Goodbye

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: They belong to JE. If Ranger were mine, you would never hear from me again. I'd be too busy. ;)

A/N: Babe fic. It's a bit angsty. Let me know if you think it's worth continuing. Considered us spoiled through Plum Lovin'.

Rating: PG… for now

**Chapter 1**

A rustle in the darkness woke me, and I rolled over to check the time. The clock was obscured by the form of a man. My heart jumped to my throat and a strangled scream was ripped from me before I recognized him.

It was Ranger. He was sitting on the bed on top of the covers, propped up against the headboard, staring at me. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to see you before I left."

I pressed a shaking hand to my heart and tried to calm my breathing, still a little dazed. "No, it's okay," I said as I raised myself up to sit. "What time is it?"

"You should go back to sleep, Babe. It's a little after two." He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I could only imagine the state of my hair. I'd gone to bed with my hair wet and it was bound to be standing on end. I self-consciously smoothed my palms over my head, grimacing. If my hair looked like it felt, I'd make a good Don King.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

For the longest time, Ranger didn't answer. Hmm, must be classified.

"Miami," he said finally. See? That wasn't so hard, mystery man. But, I knew he went to Miami pretty often and he didn't feel the need to seek me out before each trip. Something was up.

"You're coming back right?" I asked, trying to keep my tone teasing and light, but he actually had me little worried.

There was another long pause before he answered, "I'll be gone about a week. I'm heading to the airport in a few hours." Ranger's voice was flat and lifeless and all wrong. He wasn't a demonstrative guy, but this dead tone was unlike him.

I leaned across him to turn on the lamp, brushing across his body with mine, almost entirely unintentionally. We had only been alone together, in private, on a few occasions since Scrog. He was too much temptation and the urge to throw my scruples out the window was strong. For him, I think he was keeping his distance because I kept slamming on the brakes every time I got his engine revving. Still, Ranger would usually take advantage of this kind of contact. Tonight his hands remained at his sides on the bed, his body still.

With the light on, I could see that his skin was pale and there were dark smudges under his eyes. "What's wrong, Ranger?" I asked, kneeling next to him on the bed. When he wouldn't raise his eyes to meet mine, I started to worry. Panic tightened my voice, "Is it Julie?"

He looked at me then, and I saw pain there, but I breathed a sigh of relief when he shook his head. "What is it?" I urged, grabbing his hand.

His eyes remained on mine, but his stare was unseeing. "My father… had a heart attack. He's gone." The words were hollow. Disbelieving.

Tears sprang to my eyes. "Oh, Ranger, I'm so sorry," I breathed. The words were completely inadequate. I wrapped my arms around him, awkwardly, considering our positions on the bed. I wanted to do something, anything, to comfort him, but he remained stiff my arms. After holding him like that for long moments, he relaxed with a shaky sigh. He moved to wrap his arms around me, holding me tightly, his head resting on my chest. Shudders wracked his body and his arms squeezed me convulsively.

I smoothed my hand over his hair, silently holding him. Ranger had always amazed me… he was so strong, so controlled. Even at the height of the situation with Scrog and Julie, he'd remained composed. Maybe a little tired, but never out of control. He had walked in to face Scrog, knowing full well that he probably wouldn't walk out again and never betrayed fear, sorrow, regret with even a twitch of muscle.

Tonight, I got a rare glimpse at the man beneath the superhero, something I'd really only seen during our one night of intimacy. But, even now, in my arms, he didn't entirely let go of his famous control. The only tears falling were from my eyes. How exhausting it must be to keep all your emotion inside.

When his breathing had eased and his grip gentled, he said, "I'm sorry, Babe. I shouldn't have come–"

"Of course you should have come," I interrupted, still cradling him close to me. "I'm glad you did. It's okay to need a friend. It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes, Ranger. You don't always have to be so strong. Not with me."

He seemed to let that sink in silently, the only sound our breathing and an occasional sniffle from me. And the periodic squeak from the kitchen. Rex. Running his road to nowhere.

At length, Ranger whispered, "I'm not good at needing others and vulnerable people don't live long in this business."

True, but at least they live. I kept this thought to myself, and whispered back, "I know."

I reached over to the lamp and turned it out once again and settled back down on the bed, pulling Ranger down with me. We were lying on our sides, facing each other, wrapped in each other's arms. I pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Rest for a little while, we'll get you up in time."

)()()()()­-()()()()(

In a blink, the alarm sounded, and I lifted my head to see that I was practically sprawled on top of Ranger, drooling on his shoulder. I reached over to silence the alarm. Ranger watched me with unfathomable eyes, hands resting warm and heavy on the curve of my bottom. I felt a flare of attraction combating the wave of embarrassment at the drool. "Sorry," I breathed, but didn't move.

"I don't mind, Babe. I like you there." His voice was soft, naturally seductive.

"Too bad you have to get up," I said, sliding out of his arms and out of bed, pulling the covers off of him when he made no move to get up.

He stood, smoothing his sleep-rumpled clothes, retucking his shirt. "Thank you," he said, as he walked to me, wrapping his arms around me. He spoke into my hair, "I needed this… needed the sleep. This will be a rough trip."

I leaned against him, my arms drawing him closer. "I don't mind, you know," I said, lips moving against his chest. "Do you want me to come with you?" I wasn't sure why I said it. The words were out of my mouth before I could even register their meaning. I tensed in his arms, afraid I'd crossed that invisible intimacy line that we were so careful of.

I felt Ranger shake his head after a long pause. "I couldn't ask you to do that, Babe."

"You're not asking, I'm offering," I replied, leaning back in his arms to look at him. "But, I wouldn't want to intrude."

His expression was shuttered, "That's not it, I'm just not going to be very good company."

I smiled gently, "Well, I'd miss your sparkling conversation, but that's not why I'd like to go. This goes back to the whole needing people thing."

He nodded.

"Why did you come here last night?" I asked softly, like I would speak to a wounded animal.

He rested his forehead against mine and sighed. "Being near you soothes me," he said.

"Then I'm coming with you."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Saying Goodbye

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: They belong to JE. If Ranger were mine, you would never hear from me again, I'd be too busy. ;)

A/N: Babe fic. Some angst. Consider us spoiled through Plum Lovin'. Thanks for the great feedback from the first chapter. Y'all are the best.

Rating: PG… for now

_He rested his forehead against mine and sighed. "Being near you soothes me," he said._

_"Then I'm coming with you."_

**Chapter 2**

I wasn't entirely sure why I'd pressed Ranger to let me come, but a half-hour later, Ranger and I were walking out my door. I'd thrown everything I could fit into a duffel bag, including my best black suit, my most conservative heels (only two and a half inches) and whatever warm weather clothes I could drag out of the back of my closet. I'd tamed my mane into a ponytail, thrown on some jeans and layers on top and arranged for Mary Lou to Rex-sit. I'd have to call Connie later and let her know to give Lula or Joyce (gag!) my skips until I got back. If I timed the call right, maybe I could avoid talking to Vinnie. He was gonna blow a gasket when he found he was two bounty hunters short this week.

Ranger had been pretty quiet since we left my apartment and he hadn't mentioned his father again. Not that this surprised me. Ranger was taciturn on a good day. And while he may feel emotion, he rarely showed it. Talking about it would be out of the question. I wasn't gonna push him. Not now. I didn't know what he needed from me, but nagging him to talk about his feelings probably wasn't it. I was just gonna go with the flow. Well, that was the plan. I wasn't really a go with the flow kinda girl. Maybe it's an Italian thing. Or it could be a Jersey thing. Or it could just be me.

Less than two hours later, I was sitting in a first-class seat next to Ranger, sipping the world's worst cup of coffee and trying to think if I'd forgotten anything. I knew there was something, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. Hmm… my curling iron was off, there were no plants to water, bills had mostly been paid, and my mascara had been packed.

A voice came over the sound system, interrupting my thoughts, "The forward boarding door has been closed. At this time it is necessary to discontinue the use of all portable electronic devices…" I reached down to turn my phone off and saw that I had one missed message. From Joe.

Shit. I forgot about Joe. Probably shoulda called him before I left. We were supposed to go out tonight for dinner, like a real date, like real couples did, to an actual restaurant. I smacked my forehead, earning an amused look from Ranger.

"You could knock something loose if you're not careful," he said with a small smile, running his thumb gently across my brow.

"Too late for that," I returned jokingly, making a face. "Now I'm just trying to restart it."

Ranger took the offending hand in his and pressed a kiss into the palm before setting it in my lap. "Everything okay?" he asked. "This trip gonna cause trouble with the cop?"

I swear nothing slips past him. It was freaking annoying. I gave Ranger a tight smile, "Nothing I can't handle."

He just stared at me, like he was trying to figure me out. I sighed and looked away, thinking, 'Get in line, Ranger. When I've got it straight, I'll let you know.' Well probably I wouldn't let him know, but at least I'd know. That would be good. Right?

All thoughts of my bizarre love triangle flew out of my head as the plane's engines whirred to life and we headed for the runway. I grabbed Ranger's hand, holding on for dear life. He looked over and quirked an eyebrow at the white-knuckle grip.

"Sorry," I said, releasing his hand. Ranger held tight, though, not letting my hand slide away.

With a gentle squeeze he said, "It's okay."

"I'm not a great flier." My confession ended on a huge yawn and I pressed my free hand over my gaping mouth.

"Close your eyes and we'll be there before you know it," he said, tilting my seat back.

"I am sleepy. But, I have to pay attention to make sure the plane doesn't crash," I stated with an irrational conviction that if I stayed awake, I had some control.

Ranger's thumb idly rubbed soothing patterns against my hand. "Rest, Babe. I'll make sure you don't fall out of the sky."

"You sure," I asked. I was supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around.

He lowered the shade and tilted back his own seat to meet mine. "I'm sure. I don't sleep easily in public places."

"Okay," I said, closing my eyes and leaning back in my seat, "Just watch out for that blonde flight attendant. She looks shifty. Weird eyes."

Ranger's soft chuckle was the last thing I heard before I dropped off.

)()()()()-()()()()(

I awoke to the captain announcing that we were making our initial approach into the Miami airport. I rolled my head to the side to see that Ranger had nodded off too, his head resting against the window. He looked peaceful. There was no visible trace of the warrior inside except the fading scar on the side of his neck, courtesy of Scrog. I took this opportunity to study him, his smooth skin, strong jaw, soft lips. He'd hate to be called beautiful, but ya gotta call a spade a spade.

"You're staring, Babe," he said, eyes still closed.

I started with surprise. He must have radar. "Just admiring the view," I said with a grin. He cracked open one eye and looked out the window. The shade was still drawn.

He let his eyelid drop shut as a lazy grin split his face, "You want me."

We both knew this was true, but I wasn't about to admit to it. "We're landing soon," I said, changing the subject.

The shifty blonde stewardess paused next to us then. "Sir, you need to bring your seatback forward." Her uniform blouse was unbuttoned one button beyond good taste and her surgically enhanced assets were spilling out at eyelevel as she leaned over me to speak to Ranger. She pressed the button to raise his seatback and consequently brought his head into closer proximity to her breasts.

Ranger remained stoney faced, simply raising a single eyebrow at her while I none too subtly cleared my throat. Our hands were still entwined between us and had been the entire flight. Ranger raised them to his lips, kissing the back of my hand, his eyes never leaving the woman's face, despite the twin distractions dangling below. She finally got the hint, tossed a glare at me and turned to assist another passenger.

I watched as she slithered down the aisle. "Jeez, she would have crawled into your lap if you'd shown the slightest interest," I whispered to him. "When I'd said to keep an eye on her I was thinking terrorist attack not death by silicone smothering."

Ranger's laughter caught me off guard, like it always did. I remembered the first time I'd heard it, back when I commandeered the use of his apartment during the Slayer situation. He was so unguarded when he laughed like that. So human.

He leaned over to me, still amused, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "What's so funny?" I asked narrowing my eyes.

He just smiled. It was a rare and beautiful thing. "You make me laugh. Thank you for that and for coming with me."

I smiled back at him because I just couldn't help myself. "You're welcome, Ranger."

_TBC…_


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Saying Goodbye

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: They belong to JE. If Ranger were mine, you would never hear from me again, I'd be too busy. ;)

A/N: Babe fic. Some angst. Consider us spoiled through Plum Lovin'.

Rating: PG… for now

**Chapter 3**

As soon as the wheels touched down, Ranger was on his phone informing whoever was on the other end that he'd arrived. Somehow I restrained myself from asking who he was talking to, but it was a struggle. What can I say? I'm nosy. I mentally shook myself. Remember, just go with the flow.

Since we'd carried our luggage on, we bypassed the baggage claim and headed straight for the street, deftly winding our way through the masses, Ranger's hand resting at the small of my back. When we emerged into the sparkling sunlight in front of the Miami International Airport, two black SUVs were waiting at the curb. I barely restrained an eye roll. This was just how Ranger lived - all green lights. If I'd flown into Miami alone, I would have ended up losing my luggage, waiting two hours for a rental car and getting lost before I left the parking garage.

The air was humid and warm and I peeled off my flannel shirt as I trailed behind Ranger, who was carrying our bags to the back of one of the vehicles. A man jumped out of the car and hurried to Ranger's side moving with surprising agility for someone so big. It wasn't a stretch to assume he was a RangeMan employee based on his demigod build, his crew-cut blonde hair and his all-black attire. He looked like Hal's long lost cousin, but even Hal didn't fawn like this.

"Let me get that Mr. Manoso," he said, insisting on helping with the bags, tugging them from Ranger's hands. Ranger let go to keep the bags from being torn in two, while the man continued talking, "My name's Buddy. I just started with the company a week ago. This is my first assignment." We watched Buddy precisely place the luggage in the cargo area and shut the doors. He turned back to Ranger with an eager air, "Will you need me to drive you to the office, sir?"

Dryly, Ranger answered, "No. I think we can manage."

"Certainly, Mr. Manoso. Sure. Of course," Buddy said, bobbing his head at me and at Ranger, jogging around to hold open the driver's side door.

The sight of the huge, tough guy falling all over himself to help Ranger was just too comical and I suppressed a giggle, but it escaped as snort. Ranger gave me a look then guided me to the passenger seat, his hand resting against the back of my neck. He shook his head, whispering, "Reminds me of Bob-the-dog."

This time I couldn't hold in the laugh. Ranger looked down at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "You are so beautiful, especially when you laugh," he softly said, then kissed my nose and helped me up into my seat.

I glanced over at Buddy and caught him turning away, the tops of his ears coloring. The compliment stunned me, but even more surprising was the show of affection in front of one of his men. Publicly and privately, Ranger and I had been keeping a safe distance from each other ever since Scrog. For his part, I'd guessed it was his way of keeping me safe from the next sicko that wanted to get to him through me, or maybe he was trying to stop poaching. Either way, I now realized how much I'd missed his kisses, his teasing, his flirting, these last few months.

As Ranger hauled himself into the cab, Buddy said, "Sir, the gear you requested is under the front seat." He stood there for a few moments, leaning against the doorframe and I half expected him to reach over and buckle Ranger in. Finally Ranger nodded and reached for the door forcing him to back off. Buddy trotted to the passenger side of the other SUV.

Ranger just sat there, watching the SUV in front of us pull away from the curb. "What the heck was Marco thinking with that one?" Ranger asked, shaking his head. Since I had no clue who Marco was, I figured that was a rhetorical question.

"I thought you were going to have to shoot him to get him away from the door. He was more persistent than the stewardess."

"Lucky for him I wasn't armed yet." Ranger reached under the seat and drew out two holsters, one to wear at the small of his back and one for his ankle, along with two guns and a knife.

Watching him, I was reminded of our conversation at Mama Mac's funeral. He was still armed to the teeth and showing no signs of change. I sighed and shook the disappointment off. There was nothing I could do to change him, and there was no sense dwelling on it.

"Feel better now?" I asked lightly.

He nodded. "I've felt naked all day." The images that statement conjured made my mouth go dry.

Ranger flashed a wicked grin, "Save that thought, Babe."

Again Ranger reached under his seat, this time drawing out a little .38 Smith and Wesson and holding it out to me. I shot him a look, "Are you expecting trouble?"

He raised a shoulder, "With you it's almost a given."

Humph. I crossed my arms and glared.

"Humor me, Babe?" Oh hell. How could I resist him when he asked nicely? I heaved a sigh and held my hand out. I'd humor him, hell, there was probably very little that I wouldn't do for him. And that was a scary thought.

I double checked the safety and dropped the gun into my purse. "Consider yourself humored."

)()()()-()()()(

After a short trip on the Dolphin Expressway, Ranger pulled the SUV up to what I could only assume was RangeMan Miami. Unlike the utilitarian structure in Trenton, the building in front of us had a lot of character. It looked like an old, restored factory, the exterior constructed from butter yellow stone with a decorative cornice along the top of the building. It was five stories tall, the bottom converted into a gated garage.

You'd think that a yellow building would stick out, but from what I'd seen so far, pastels were Miami camouflage. I couldn't wait to see what the men wore on surveillance jobs.

"It used to be a cigar factory, built at the turn of the last century," Ranger said following my gaze to the facade. "It was falling apart when I bought it for RangeMan."

"It's beautiful. Must have been a lot of work."

He didn't answer, silently staring at the building for a few long moments before pulling through the gate and taking a reserved spot near the elevator. A collection of black vehicles filled the garage along with one gorgeous red BMW M6 convertible in the space next to us.

When Ranger didn't immediately get out, I looked over at him, concerned. He was staring at nothing. I gently laid my hand on his arm and he snapped out of his daze, shaking his head. "Sorry, Babe… memories." He cleared his throat, switching back to his usual controlled self, "So, I was planning for us to stay here at my place unless you'd be more comfortable in a hotel. There are only two apartments here. The rest of the guys live down the block in a company owned condo building."

I swallowed the lump of panic at the thought of sharing living space with Ranger. We'd managed it before. We were adults. Well, he was an adult and I could be if I tried. Plus, I didn't want to be any trouble. "Here's fine," I assured him.

I hopped out and met Ranger at the rear door of the SUV, taking my bag from the back and swinging it over my shoulder. "Buddy will be very disappointed you didn't let him get these," I teased.

"I'm surprised he wasn't waiting to pounce on us when we arrived," he said, removing the bag from my shoulder and putting it over his own before picking up his bags. He led the way to the elevators, using a remote to access the fifth floor.

When the elevator doors slid open, I sucked in a breath. The walls of the entryway were the most violent orange I'd ever seen and opposite of the elevator there was a surreal painting in graphic colors hanging over a stainless steel table. I was too stunned to move, I just stood there gaping at the décor. In fact, I stood there for so long that the doors started to slide shut and that's when I realized that Ranger hadn't moved either.

"Fucking Marco," he muttered, swinging a bag between the elevator doors to keep them from shutting. We stepped into the vestibule and I had to squint to keep my retinas from burning.

"So, who's this Marco, anyway?"

"Marco's my partner in this office. And he lives to torment me," Ranger answered.

I raised my eyebrows wondering how anyone could possibly live long enough to torment Ranger on a regular basis.

"He's also my brother." Ah.

There were three doors leading from the foyer and Ranger walked to the door on the right, setting down one of the bags to free a hand, and fit his key into the lock. I saw his shoulders sag in relief when the door opened.

I, too, was pleased to see that the interior of Ranger's apartment was not orange. In fact it was beautifully done with white-washed walls, dark wood floors and moldings. As we entered I saw that there were white gauzy curtains at the windows and dark furnishings. The effect was peaceful and airy and yet very masculine. The layout seemed very similar to Ranger's Trenton apartment except there didn't appear to be a dining room, just a table in the kitchen.

Ranger set our bags down in the bedroom and when he returned I said, "Just so I'm clear, you didn't choose the orange, did you?"

He shook his head. "Marco's been threatening to redecorate for awhile, especially since I haven't been down here much lately. I'm just glad he left my place alone or I'd have to kill him no matter how much our mother loves him."

I laughed and only wondered for a moment if he was kidding or not. He was almost definitely joking. I was pretty sure.

Silence fell over us and we were standing rather awkwardly in his living room. I realized we rarely just hung out together. Feeling ill at ease, I pulled at a loose string at the hem of my t-shirt and asked, "What's the plan?"

"I'm gonna check in downstairs. You can come along or settle in up here."

"Well, I need to make a call to the office." And to Joe. Better get it over with now.

"Why don't you come down when you're done and we can grab some food. Just dial 2 to get the control room and they'll tell you where to find me. Make yourself at home." He pressed a kiss to my forehead and walked out the door, leaving me alone in the silent apartment.

I was very tempted to snoop since I knew I'd have the apartment to myself for awhile, but instead I grabbed my cell phone and flopped on the dark brown leather sofa. Time to face Morelli. But actually I chickened out and dialed the office first. Connie answered on the second ring.

"Hi, Connie," I said.

"Hi, Steph," she said, smacking her gum between syllables. "Where've you been? I've got a stack of files for you."

"Uh, yeah. That's the thing. I'm gonna be out of town for about a week, so I won't be able to take any new cases 'til I get back."

"Steph, you can't," she cried. "We're up to our ears in skips. Vinnie's gonna have kittens when he hears about this. I've even sent Lula out after some of the regulars."

"Sorry, Connie, but it's too late, I'm in Miami already."

"Miami? Reeeally?" she asked, latching onto what would surely be grist for the Burg gossip mill when we hung up. "That's funny because, there's a certain man in black who's supposed to be in Miami this week. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would ya?"

Well, crap. I had two choices. I could deny, deny, deny and let Connie fill in the juicy details to the best of her vivid imagination or I could come clean and hope then that at least my mother would hear the real story - not that my mother would appreciate the real story.

I sighed and told her, "Yes, Connie. I know Ranger's in Miami. I'm here with him _as a friend_. We're going to a funeral."

"Hmmm." I could hear the wheels turning in her head. "So what's Joe think of this _friendly_ trip?"

"Really Connie, it's no big deal. I'm sure Joe will understand when I explain the situation."

Connie snorted on the other end of the line and she didn't have to say 'Yeah, right,' for me to get her meaning loud and clear. "Good luck with that."

"Yeah. Thanks, Connie. I'll see you when I get back."

"I'm expecting a full report."

I snorted my 'Yeah, right,' back at her. "Bye, Connie," I said.

"Bye, Steph."

I groaned, slapping my palm against my forehead. No doubt Connie was already spreading this news all over the Burg. And, I would have to do damage control with my mother now, too. Or maybe I could accidentally-on-purpose, hurl my phone out the window. A five story drop should do it and then I wouldn't have to speak to her until I got back.

I was contemplating whether or not I could get a window open without setting off a series of alarms and bringing a horde of Rangemen to the door when the phone rang. I glanced at the display. Joe.

"Hey," I answered, hoping the apprehension I was feeling didn't leak into my voice.

"Cupcake," he said, sounding relieved. "I've been calling you all morning."

"Sorry, Joe. My phone was off."

"No problem. Listen, I was calling because I've got bad news. One of my informants just washed up on the banks of the Delaware and I'm up to my eyeballs in paperwork. I'm gonna have to cancel on dinner. I'm really sorry."

"No problem Joe, I'll be tied up, too. I wanted to tell you…"

"Oh, sorry, my other line's ringing. I've gotta run, Cupcake," he interrupted. "I'll call you later. Love you."

"Me, too," I said, but he was already gone.

I stared at the phone for a moment before shutting it off. A little ball of dread was growing in the pit of my stomach, and I knew that putting off the inevitable was only going to make things worse in the end.

_TBC…_


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Saying Goodbye

Author: Robin

Disclaimer: Standard stuff. Ranger and Stephanie aren't mine and neither is the world they live in. sigh

A/N: Babe fic. Some angst. Consider us spoiled through Plum Lovin'. Thanks for the fantastic reviews, I really appreciate each and every one.

Rating: PG… for now

**Chapter 4**

I knew I should call Joe back and make a preemptive strike before he was besieged by the Burg, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It would all up end up okay... I'm sure... probably. Yes, procrastination is my watchword and it's right up there with denial.

Since I'd gotten a stay of execution, I decided to wander around the apartment and 'make myself at home' as Ranger suggested. This apartment looked a little more lived in as opposed to the one in Trenton. It was still very polished and sophisticated, but there were a few more personal touches, hints about the man who sometimes lived here.

An afghan that looked to be handmade was folded over the ottoman and an inexpertly hand-thrown glazed pot sat on the shelf, both appeared to be here more for sentiment than aesthetics. In the living room there was a small collection of well worn books. There were a few volumes of poetry in Spanish, but the rest were in English. I recognized a few classics that I was supposed to have read in college, but never got around to. There was one, _The Art of War_, by Sun Tzu which looked well loved.

I pulled the beautifully leather-bound book from the shelf and paged through it, noticing a handwritten inscription on the inside cover. It read: _Carlos, I hope making war someday brings you peace. I'll be looking forward to that day. All my love, L._

Feeling like I was intruding where I shouldn't, I closed the book and returned it to the shelf, taking care to make it appear untouched. There was this little knot in my stomach that hadn't been there a few moments ago. It was the sinking sensation that maybe Ranger had an entire life I knew nothing about.

In truth I didn't really know Ranger all that well. I mean, I _knew_ him, I just didn't _know_ him, ya know? I knew he was the bravest man I'd ever met, that he die to protect me, that he cared for me, but I knew very little about the life he'd led before we met up with in that diner so long ago. And I didn't know what he did or where he went when he mysteriously disappeared for days and weeks on end. I wondered for a moment if Ranger could be one of those men who have a wife and kids in one city and a girl or even a whole different family tucked away in another, neither party knowing the other existed. I shook my head. No. Ranger was too moral to do something like that even though he traveled enough to pull it off. Still, I knew little enough about his past, present and future to wonder if the reason he wasn't relationship material was partly because he was already spoken for.

I turned from the bookshelf and distanced myself from the temptation of snooping though the rest of the books for personal messages from the mysterious _L_. Of course I was burning with curiosity. Who was this _L_? A relative? A former girlfriend? A current lover? Wow, I really didn't want to go there, but I guessed it was possible. He and I hadn't been together for almost a year. I could hardly expect a man with Ranger's sexual appetite to live like a monk. But the idea of him with someone else cut deeply. It wasn't fair, I've been shacked up with Morelli for months now, but I still thought of Ranger as my territory. If I couldn't have him then I didn't want anyone else to either.

But if I really wanted him, what was I doing with Morelli?

I decided it was better to just put those dangerous thoughts out of my mind. There wasn't enough Ben & Jerry's in the building for me to go down that road. I'd think about it later. Much, much later. I continued perusing the living room, though with a little less enthusiasm than before. On the other wall, there was a framed photograph. I approached it and smiled. It was a school portrait of Julie, and from the look of it, I'd say it was recent. I was heartened by the sign that he was letting Julie into his life. I hoped we'd see her while we were in town.

I meandered through the bedroom and refrained from digging through his drawers. I already knew exactly what Ranger wore, or rather, _didn't_ wear under his cargos. The bathroom was luxurious and lush with light marble flooring, dark walnut cabinetry and warm, soft lighting. Unlike the Trenton apartment, this bathroom had a large tub in addition to the glass-encased shower. No Bulgari, though, I noticed with a moue of disappointment. I'd have to find Miami's version of Ella and let her in on the secret of the devil shower gel.

Ranger had put my bag on the bed and I returned to the bedroom to pull out something to wear. My jeans were too much in the heat down here. I selected a light blue scoop necked knit top and coordinating skirt. Most of what I'd brought was in this vein and it would be a nice change to be a little feminine. Plus all my shorts were in storage in the basement of my building and there hadn't been time to search for them. As I slipped on a pair of sandals, my stomach grumbled. It was time to find Ranger and food.

Picking up the phone in the kitchen, I pressed "2" to get the Control Room.

"Control," a voice said, more of a command than a greeting, sort of like, 'State your business and stop wasting my time.'

"Um. Hi," I said, ever the brilliant conversationalist. But cut me some slack, the Rangemen were intimidating on a good day when they weren't even trying. "Hi," I repeated, clearing my throat. "I'm trying to find Ranger. He told me you'd have his location."

"Hold, please," the voice responded abruptly. Without having the chance to respond, I heard the handset being covered by a hand and someone muttering. The only words I caught were 'the bossman's bimbo' before the line clicked, went silence and I was put on hold. I was shocked to say the least. Now, I was used to the Merry Men in Trenton. I'd worked with them, I'd spent time with them, and I'd sent more than one of them to the hospital. We respected each other. They were a motley collection with all sorts of backgrounds and I'm sure they had their opinions of me and my "relationship" with Ranger. But never had one of them voiced their opinion to me. And if it was negative, I doubted they'd voice it to Ranger either.

I was fuming as I waited while the Control Room Neanderthal (who I'd gladly put in the hospital if the opportunity arose) located Ranger. Who did he think he was to talk about me or Ranger that way? I couldn't wait to tell Ranger so that he could kick his ass or send him to Uganda or something. Of course, then I remembered why I was here and realized it would be better to just let it slide. Ranger didn't need anymore stress, and it wasn't that important. It went against my nature, but I'd just let it go. I knew that I wasn't some bimbo; that would have to be enough.

"Ranger's in Marco's office. I'll send someone up to escort you," the voice said.

"That's not necessary," I said. "If you tell me which floor the office is on, I'm sure I can find it."

"Company policy," was the clipped reply. "All visitors are escorted while in the building."

I rolled my eyes. Trenton had the same policy, but I was always an exception. I sighed, "Yes, but—" and I was cut off by the dial tone. He'd hung up on me. Prick.

I was tapping my foot and silently seething while I waited for my babysitter. Then I decided I'd better apply another coat of mascara, just for protection. What I really needed was a Tasteykake. Of course there weren't any Tasteykakes in this sad and backwards part of the world. Poor deprived Southerners.

There was a knock on the door and Buddy was standing in the doorway, looking eager to help. Poor guy, apparently this was the highlight of his day. They must have him filing in his spare time; that was the shit job that always got laid on the new guy – at least the ones that could alphabetize. He smiled shyly and beckoned me to follow him without a word. I fought the urge to put on my sunglasses to protect myself from the glare of the hallway paint and slipped into the waiting elevator behind Buddy.

He pressed "3" on the panel and we stood in awkward silence as the elevator smoothly sank to the third floor. If this building was anything like Trenton, I figured that my every move was being monitored by Control. I really wanted to flip off the jerk behind the desk, but I fought the urge to show him my Jersey charm and I just stared at the floor.

It was funny, I was used to getting certain special treatment from the guys in Trenton because of my friendship with Ranger, but until now, I didn't realize how special it was. I wondered what Ranger had done or threatened to do to get them all to treat me with such polite courtesy.

When the elevator doors slid open on the third floor, all discussion stopped. If I'd been in a paranoid mood, I'd swear they'd been talking about me before I arrived. There were stares following me as Buddy led me through the honeycomb of cubicles and banks of monitors and it was a little disconcerting. I worked at maintaining my poise (yeah, right) and not making eye contact.

Wow. Tough room. I looked for the dickwad that had given me a tough time on the phone, but it was hard to tell who it was. There were several men with wireless headsets and it could have been any one of them.

When I heard my name being called, it came as such a surprise that I spun around in a full circle before spotting the source. Silvio was walking toward me with a smile, his hand extended.

Now, I didn't know Silvio all that well – we'd only worked together for one day before he was transferred to Miami – but I couldn't be happier to see him. An ally! It took all that I had to keep from hugging him in relief at seeing a friendly face. I settled for an enthusiastic handshake, but I didn't want to let go.

"Hi, Silvio," I said warmly.

"Stephanie," he said. "It's good to see you."

The speculative stares were still on me, but seemed more curious and less hostile now.

"The buzz was that Ranger had company. I should have realized it was you."

"How are you doing down here?" I asked. I leaned in and said in a soft voice, "Do these guys blink?"

Silvio laughed, "Yeah. They're good guys, just a little wary of outsiders." He glanced around and lowered his voice, "There's been some trouble lately, and everyone's guard is up."

I nodded and wondered what kind of trouble, but knew better than to press. If Ranger wanted me to know about it, he'd tell me. Probably Silvio had already told me more than he should.

"How is Trenton? Any explosions I haven't heard about?"

"No," I said, trying to sound offended, but I ruined it with an eye-roll and bumped his arm with my shoulder. "Everything's been relatively quiet since Scrog."

Silvio nodded. He and the Miami office had been in on the search for Julie, I didn't need to explain what a mess that had been.

"Well I'd better get back to work. Maybe you can fill me in on all the Trenton gossip sometime while you're here. And you could help me get some of my searches done." He said waggling his eyebrows.

"Don't count on my help, not that you need it, but I'll definitely find some time to catch you up on the Trenton scoop for sure," I smiled and gestured to Buddy, standing a few feet away and not doubt overhearing every word of our conversation. "I'd better not keep my guard waiting. You know I can't be trusted."

"Not with anything flammable at least." Silvio winked and turned to head back to his cubicle.

"Hey, Silvio," I called as he walked away, "can I see your stun gun a sec?"

He turned and laughed, "Won't work on me, Steph. Try Buddy."

I grinned and shrugged, "It was worth a shot." I realized how much more comfortable I felt now, even though I was still the center of attention and I turned to Buddy. "Lead on," I said with a smile.

Buddy put his hand on his stun gun which was holstered at his waist and asked, "Did you need to see this, ma'am?"

"No," I laughed. "No, I was only teasing Silvio." I shooed him toward the row of offices against the far wall which I presumed was our destination. The murmuring had resumed and now I was fairly certain that I was the topic of conversation, paranoia be damned.

Buddy knocked on the door farthest to the right and upon hearing "Come in," opened it to reveal an office that was Day-Glo yellow. It was so yellow that it nearly knocked me over. I was so focused on the overwhelming color that until Ranger spoke, I didn't even notice him and the man, whom I guessed was Marco, standing in the center of the room.

"Babe," he said and there was a smile in his voice if not on his face.

"Hi," I said. "Wow. I think I was suffering from hysterical blindness there for a minute."

Ranger smiled for real this time and reached a hand out to me, grasping my elbow and pulling me to him until I was standing flush to his side with his arm wrapped around my back, his hand resting on my hip. "Babe, this is my brother, Marco. Marco, this is Stephanie."

Marco and I sized each other up for a moment. There was no question that he was Ranger's brother, same dark eyes, dark skin and dark hair - cut short. But their taste couldn't be more different. Marco was wearing shorts and a bright red tropical shirt with large yellow flowers (that matched the walls) splashed all over it. He was what Ranger would look like if he let himself eat too much cake. Marco wasn't fat by any means, just a bit softer, not as fit and muscular. His face was similar but not as classically handsome as Ranger's and it showed the signs of hard living: too much drink, too many drugs and not enough sleep.

But his smile easy and wide and the laugh lines at his eyes indicated that it wasn't an uncommon occurrence. He took both of my hands in his and pulled me from Ranger, kissing me on each cheek.

"It is good to finally meet you, Stephanie Plum," he said. "Ranger has told me absolutely nothing about you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: They are JE's. If I owned them they probably wouldn't so much fun to play with.

**Rating**: R

**Chapter 5**

_Ranger_

My shoulders were slumped under an invisible weight as I stepped from the garishly orange foyer onto the elevator. I felt as if I'd aged a decade over the last day. It was funny what grief could do to you. When my sister Celia called to tell me the news, it was like I'd been sucker punched in the solar plexus. I hadn't felt like myself since. Except when Stephanie put her arms around me. In fact, the only time I hadn't felt like I'd just jumped from a Cessna without a chute, free-falling with the ground rushing up to meet me, was when I was with her, touching her. The rest of the time I'd been adrift.

It was a terrifying feeling for a man who had long ago learned to keep a tight rein on his emotions. Overwhelming. But I hadn't seen this coming and I hadn't felt like this since I was fifteen-years-old. I hated to admit that I was glad that Stephanie offered to come with me. She was always a bright spot in my dark life, but right now I needed her to be my rock.

The elevator door slid open on the third floor and silence greeted me as I stepped out. Most of the men were focused on their work, heads down, but a few looked up as I passed, nodding in greeting. They didn't fool me for a second. I knew the moment I was behind closed doors they'd be gossiping like the blue-haired ladies down at Grandma Mazur's hair dresser. I'd become an infrequent visitor to this office lately and there was enough turn-over in staff that to some men I was only a name that was whispered when management's back was turned.

I scanned the control room with a sharp eye, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The reports Marco had been sending to me about this office over the last six months hadn't been good. One major operation had gone south just last week, the latest in a series of SNAFU-ed ops. Some were minor – a break in on an account here, an elusive FTA there. But this last big op had been a government contract and in addition to losing the six-figure pay check, it probably cost Rangeman Miami future jobs with that agency. I wasn't sure if it was coincidence, corporate sabotage or just plain incompetence, but any which way, it needed to be dealt with. At least it would give me something else to worry about while I was here.

I braced myself as I walked into Marco's office, knowing what to expect. He'd redecorated about three months ago, just for fun. That was the thing about Marco, he was always up for fun. But when it came to running the business, he had his serious side and normally did an exceptional job.

Marco was speaking on the telephone when I came in and nodded his head absently. I took a seat on the god-awful red couch while he wrapped up and wondered, not for the first time, how dreary the world must look to him if this was what looked good.

We both stood when he hung up the phone and he came around the desk to greet me, clasping hands and almost hugging, but not quite. The men in our family had never been particularly affectionate with one another, though Marco and I were about as close as brothers get.

Still, I knew better than to bring up my father. We'd covered this ground more than once and I wasn't in the mood to have it out right now. We'd agreed to disagree and I had no illusions that recent events had changed anything. Papa had been dead to Marco for a long time now.

Since there was no sense standing around awkwardly trying to ignore the pink elephant in the corner – though in this room it would fit right in – I got right down to business. "What the fuck's been going on down here, big brother?"

"Wish I had a clue. I'm ruling out the possibility of a mole. All communications are being recorded – internal and external. I've rerun the rudimentary background checks on everyone, but I need to do some more in-depth searches, I just haven't had the time. I don't know who to trust, so I didn't want to bring anyone else in on it at this point. I could use some outside help, maybe some people you trust from one of the other offices. So far I haven't seen anything remotely out of the ordinary, but I've got a bad feeling. Something's off."

I nodded, agreeing with him that there had just been one too many "accidents" for it to be accidental. "I've got someone with me who might be able to help and I can pull in another man or two if we need it. First off, I'll look over what you've got and also the Op Reports for the botched jobs. You haven't made your suspicions known to the men?"

"No, but they're not stupid. I've tightened things up a bit, increased security, randomly rotating duty posts… the usual. I floated a rumor that I think it is some kind of external job, but I'm sure there are some that have the same suspicions I do. Whoever it is would be foolish to not be on their guard. And most of our guys are good. They're going to know how to avoid detection."

"Do you have any one in mind? Anywhere you think we should start?"

"Not really. Some of the long-term guys I'd trust with my life, in fact I have. Jack, Adam and Tonka have been with us forever, I hate to even doubt them. Problem is I can't get a fix on the motive. Unless this person just wants us out of business, period. The jobs that have been sabotaged have all been so different.

"Still, the DEA job hurt," Marco ran a hand over his hair. "I lost a good man in the raid and could have lost the whole team. They knew we were coming, little brother. It's going to be ugly when I find out who's behind this."

The intercom on Marco's shiny green desk buzzed and he pressed the button, "Go."

Whoever was on duty at the Control Center spoke, "Ranger's guest is asking to be directed to his location, sir."

Marco cocked an eyebrow at me – a shared genetic trait that could be damned annoying when I was on the receiving end of it.

I answered, "That's fine. Let her know where I am."

"Yes, sir," the voice responded and Marco released the button.

"Her?" Marco asked in that tone of voice siblings use to really irritate one another. Bastard. I should have known he was going to give me a hard time about her.

"This is new. Anyone I know?"

"Well, since she's not a stripper and doesn't have aspirations of breaking into the adult film industry, I doubt it."

"Funny."

I gave him a blank look, "I'm a funny guy."

"Since when?" he asked, raising that damned eyebrow again.

He was still ribbing me about vows of celibacy and how happy he was to find out I was actually interested in the opposite sex when there was a knock on the door. Marco called, "Come in," and the golden retriever on two legs, Buddy, opened the door to let Stephanie in. I mentally cringed. I'd meant to inform Control that she had full security clearance, meaning she didn't need to be escorted. Having a babysitter for no good reason was sure to put her in a mood.

Surprisingly enough, she was smiling as she entered though the color on the walls stopped her cold. I completely understood how she could be distracted. As it was, I was only able to ignore it by employing the torture resistance training I'd had as a Ranger.

"Babe," I said, amused by the vacant look on her face.

"Hi," she said, shaking her head slightly and focusing on me. A shy smile curved her lips, "Wow. I think I was suffering from hysterical blindness there for a minute."

I smiled then, feeling my mood lighten for the first time since I'd left her a short while ago. I pulled her toward me, enjoying the way she fit against my side wrapping my arm around her, sending Marco a clear message with my possessive gesture. It said, 'Hands off. Stephanie Plum's mine.'

I took in their reactions as I made the introductions. On Stephanie's part I detected nervous curiosity, but Marco was eyeing her like his next meal. Naturally, Stephanie looked beautiful and I should have known better than to introduce them; Marco made Lester look like a choir boy. But, I saw the mischievous glint in his eyes as he took Stephanie's hands in his, telling me that he was more interested in pushing my buttons than anything else. He pulled her close for a two cheek kiss as he turn on the Latin-lover charm that had captivated more than a few women over the years. And I didn't miss that he used her full name when he greeted her. The sneak. I'd never told him that.

"Ranger has told me absolutely nothing about you," Marco said, still holding her hands in his.

"I'm completely shocked," she replied with teasing sarcasm, her own innate charm kicking in. Stephanie shot me a mock accusing glare and I shrugged in reply, trying to remain nonchalant. The fact that Marco was touching her was messing with my calm. I willed myself to relax and resisted the urge to pull her back to me. Marco was testing me and Stephanie had no way of knowing that when we were younger, Marco and I had been fiercely competitive over women. In fact, Rachel was one of the few who had favored me, and of course that hadn't worked out exactly as I'd planned. Marco had an ease with people, a charisma, that I never managed. I'd always been the quiet one which generally put women off.

Of course, while I was wondering if I need to be worried about Stephanie falling prey to Marco's wiles, she was wondering if he was gay.

I burst into laughter. God, she never disappointed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: The characters you recognize belong to JE. The ones you don't came from my twisted little mind. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not…

**A/N**: Love it? Hate it? Let me know.

**Rating**: We're still hanging in at PG-13, for now…

"_It is good to finally meet you, Stephanie Plum," he said. "Ranger has told me absolutely nothing about you."_

**Chapter 6**

_Stephanie_

"I'm completely shocked," I said, light sarcasm coloring my voice as I shot a narrowed eyed glance at Ranger. The narrowed eyes were partly because the walls were making me tear up and partly because I wanted to tease Ranger. But I really wasn't put out. It would be nice to think Ranger cared so deeply that he couldn't keep his mouth shut about me, but it would be hard to picture. Ranger was a private person and as far as I knew, kept his own counsel. He returned my look with a slight shrug of his shoulders that said, 'I am what I am' and I couldn't help but smile. I kinda liked him as he was. I turned back to Marco, who was still holding my hands in his. "Ranger has told me very little about you as well, so I guess we're even. Though I'm gathering that you like color."

I went on, filling the quiet with my mouth, which I would swear sometimes was completely out of my control. "I mean you two are on two opposite ends of the spectrum. A little color can be good, interesting even." I eyed Ranger's black shirt stretched taut over his sculpted chest. Okay, so the black worked for him, but I bet he'd look good in blue… or­­­­ green… or white against all of that tanned skin. Yum. I mentally shook myself. Focus Steph.

I took in the rest of the office. It looked like Roy G. Biv had vomited in the room. Red velvet couch, orange leather executive chair, grass green lacquered desk and book shelf, pieces that shouldn't be allowed to exist separately, but all together were something out of a Crayola nightmare. I turned back to Marco, shuddering. "On the other hand, too much color can be really… disturbing. Not that I'm the decorating expert or anything, but this is… Unless…" A thought occurred to me and I gasped, "Are you gay?" I rushed to add, "Not that there is anything wrong with that, but that would explain why it's so… uh… flamboyant… But, I don't know any gay men who would wear that shirt. Actually, I don't know any men who would wear that shirt, period." Maybe it's a Miami thing.

Ranger and Marco's laughter was rich and sexy as bounced around the room and somehow I'd done it again… managed to be entertaining. Ranger was still chuckling when he said, "Babe, Marco's partly color blind, but definitely not gay. At least if the string of women that have paraded through here are any indication."

I closed my eyes and groaned. Great, now I've really done it. I haven't known Marco for five minutes and my big mouth and I have already managed to insult his decorating habits and taste in clothing plus I questioned his manhood. Ranger protect me.

More laughter, and I cracked my eyes open, biting my lip. Great, and now I'm thinking out loud. Perfect.

Still laughing, Marco said, "I knew you were beautiful, and you'd have to be smart to interest my brother, but I had no idea you were going to be funny as well." I breathed a relieved sigh that I hadn't just screwed up this meeting. For some reason I hadn't yet examined, I really wanted Ranger's family to like me. But wait, I'm confused. Didn't he just say he'd never heard of me?

At my confused look he explained. "Just because my brother treats his life like a top secret mission, doesn't mean I don't have my ways." Marco pulled me to his side, wrapping an arm around me much as Ranger had done a few moments ago. I didn't know him all that well, but it felt like Marco was baiting his brother. For my part, I was curious what Ranger would do in the face of Marco's teasing.

Ranger became stoic, but raised a questioning eyebrow. I decided that I didn't want to mediate any sibling squabbles, so I kept my mouth shut. Hey, maybe I do have some control after all. Too little, too late. But, as far as I knew I was the only person that ever gave Ranger a hard time and lived to talk about it. So this could be enlightening. And Marco smelled good – almost as good as Ranger. Oh, I hope I didn't say any of that out loud.

Since Ranger was still watching his brother silently and didn't look like he was contemplating the cost of airfare to the Congo, I thought I was safe. For now.

"I have picked up a few things over the years, little brother," Marco said, giving me a squeeze. "There had to be a good reason you were spending so much time up in Trenton and leaving me with all the work down here. I knew it wasn't my stellar managerial skills or the snow and cold and Jersey smog." He turned his attention to me, "Of course, I always thought my brother was some kind of monk, until your name hit the news when Julie went missing. Then I knew without a doubt, that the attraction in Jersey was one Stephanie Plum."

Ranger finally interrupted, joking. "I didn't think you were sharp enough to figure it out, I guess I have taught you something." Ranger reached out for my hand and with a gentle tug, gathered me back to his side. The close proximity to Ranger might have been messing with my mind, but I was pretty sure Ranger had just admitted that he spent more time in Jersey to be near me. My heart fluttered a little at the thought, but I quickly squashed it. Probably, I'd misunderstood. Probably, he was just kidding.

As I tried to wrap my head around Ranger's comment, the bickering – if you can accuse two grown, armed men of engaging in something so childish – continued. Marco rolled his eyes at Ranger and said, "I have picked up a thing or two over the years. Plus, it's good to be underestimated." He met my eyes and we shared a smirk. Yeah, I could relate.

At that break in the conversation, my empty stomach decided to make itself known with a grumble. You'd think I'd be impervious to embarrassment at this point in my life, but my cheeks colored as I put a hand on my stomach. "Sorry, I'm hungry."

"Let's get you fed, Babe. Marco, do you want to join us?"

"No, baby brother, some of us have work to do." He bowed and kissed my hand formally, but the effect was ruined by the amused glint in his eye. "Ms. Plum, it's been a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to getting to know you better during your stay."

I couldn't help but smile back at him. I pulled out my rather rusty 'Burg manners in return. "It's nice to meet you too, Marco. It is too bad I'm not here under happier circumstances. I'm sorry for the loss of your father."

The transformation in Marco was instantaneous as all the light left his eyes. I was immediately sorry I'd said anything. "Thank you, but I'm not. Our father was a bastard." His tone was still light when he spoke; however, his words were anything but.

Even though it appeared we were standing on the surface of the Sun, the atmosphere immediately became icy. Ranger's jaw hardened, teeth clenched and his fingers dug into the skin on my hip where his hand rested. I shot Ranger a confused glance and tried not to wince at his bruising grip. He was staring at the floor, not looking at his brother, or me. I was at a loss, so I laid my palm on his cheek, turned his head toward me and willed him to meet my eyes.

"Hey," I said softly, trying to soothe him. Not even really understanding all of the emotions in play, I knew Ranger was on the edge of his control. And for a moment, there was a naked expression of emotion in his eyes before he shut it down.

"I'm sorry, Carlos," Marco said softly, serious now. "I know you and Papa—

"Babe," Ranger interrupted his brother in that flat, emotionless voice that was more frightening to me than any Morelli rage. "Will you wait outside for me?" When I hesitated, he squeezed my hand to reassure me. "I'll only be a minute."

Taking one last, long look at Ranger, I turned and left the room, shutting the door behind me.

Once outside, I leaned against the wall and heaved a sigh. What the heck was that all about? If only I'd kept my mouth shut, I chastised myself. But, how could I know that there was bad blood there? That's what I got for trying to be polite.

I was standing there, trying to puzzle it all out, probably muttering to myself, and generally looking crazy when Buddy jogged up.

"Do you need to go somewhere, ma'am?" he asked. He was breathless, hopefully in anticipation of helping and not from the short run. Not even I got winded that easily.

"No thanks, Buddy," I told him. "I'm waiting here for Ranger. And please don't call me ma'am. It's Steph."

Buddy settled next to me against the wall to wait with me, mirroring my stance –leaning back, arms crossed, one leg bent, foot flat against the wall. Just me and my shadow.

"Really," I said glancing over at Buddy, "there's gotta be something better for you to do. Ranger will be out in a minute. I don't think I can cause any trouble in that short amount of time." Well, I probably couldn't cause any more trouble than I already had.

"It's no problem, ma'am – I mean, Steph – right now you are my assignment. I'll just keep you company."

"Did Ranger put you up to this?"

"No ma'am, the Operations Chief assigned me to you."

In Trenton, Tank was the Operations Chief. I wondered who held that post down here and if he was just guessing that I was good at finding trouble or if he'd been forewarned. I lowered my voice to a conspiratory whisper, "You probably don't know this about me, but my bodyguards don't have a long shelf life. I hope all of your affairs are in order."

A shadow crossed his friendly features. I'd say it was fear. Maybe Buddy was smarter than he looked.

"Don't worry," I added, feeling a little guilty for making him worry. "I don't have any stalkers or psychos after me right now, at least none that I know of, so you should be okay. But watch your back – the position comes with some bad luck."

"Oh. Okay. I'll keep my eyes opened." He scanned the room then, as if to prove that he was going to keep his eyes open. Like I was in danger in the middle of Ranger's highly secured building. Yeesh.

"I think we're safe here. Don't you?"

"Oh, of course," he said, but he still remained vigilant.

I mentally rolled my eyes, but smiled to myself. Buddy was dim, but he was kind of growing on me.

The office door opened and Ranger walked out, pausing next to me. I straightened, trying to read him, but his blank face was firmly in place. Silently he motioned to the elevator with his head and started walking toward it. I turned to Buddy and gave him a little finger wave then took off after Ranger, walking faster than normal to match his long stride. I felt the weight of curious eyes on us as we made our way across the room, but Ranger was in a zone, either unaware or unconcerned by the attention. At that moment, I didn't care about anyone else… I only had eyes for Ranger.

Once we were standing next to each other on the elevator, moving down toward the garage, I placed my hand on Ranger's arm. He flinched under my fingers and I snatched my hand back as if I'd been burned. Taking his reaction as a rejection, I started to move slightly away from him. I guess he was upset with me for starting the trouble with Marco. Before I could go far, though, Ranger caught my hand, squeezing it reflexively in his own.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice low, strained.

"What?"

"In Marco's office… I… I didn't mean to hurt you." He turned to me and lightly rubbed the knuckles of his free hand against the curve of my hip where he'd held me so tightly. Oh. The light bulb of realization lit up. He wasn't mad at me, he was mad at himself.

The gentle brush of his fingers was stirring all sorts sensations in me, but the brief discomfort from earlier was long forgotten. I was much more concerned with the how my knees were turning to jello and the way my breath was caught in my chest. "No… no… of course not. Ranger, I'm fine. What about you?"

Ranger flicked his eyes at the camera in the corner. "Not here," he said, but he kept my hand in his, only letting go once he'd helped me get settled into the passenger seat of the SUV. As he climbed into the truck, the phone on his belt vibrated.

With a barely audible sigh, he pulled the phone out of its holder and looked down at the read out. "I think it's for you, Babe," he said, showing the phone to me before flipping it open and answering, "Yo."

My stomach clenched, and not with hunger. The name on the screen had been Morelli.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: They are JE's. If I owned them they probably wouldn't so much fun to play with.

**Rating**: R

**Chapter 7**

_Ranger_

The introductions were going well, and I'd managed to keep from prying Stephanie out of Marco's clutches. Well, I resisted the impulse for several minutes. In the end, I just gently pulled—okay, tugged—her over to me.

I caught the pensive look on Stephanie's face as she took in the banter between me and Marco like a spectator at a tennis match. I hadn't challenged Marco's charge that I was hanging in Trenton to be near her because the brutal fact was that it was partly true. It wasn't a truth I'd ever admitted to myself before, let alone considered confessing to her, but Marco had an uncanny insight and an annoying habit of giving me a hard time. So naturally, he had no problem bringing it up.

When Stephanie's stomach growled loudly enough to compete with the paint on the walls, I knew it was time to get her fed. Though I invited Marco to join us, I was glad when he declined. I really wanted Stephanie to myself for awhile.

I was listening to their conversation with only half an ear, considering options for a restaurant that would suit both of our tastes when Marco's voice, light but with an undercurrent of tension, pierced my thoughts. "Thank you, but I'm not. Our father was a bastard."

It was like I'd been doused with ice water. The sorrow and regret that I'd been trying so hard to squash down, swelled up. Memories of my father – at the dinner table, teaching me to ride a bike, lecturing me and Marco, helping me to repaint the façade of this building, dancing with my mother in the kitchen – tumbled one into another in a rush that, like an undertow, was sucking me down.

And then Stephanie was there, my lifeline. "Hey," she said softly, and I immediately stepped back from the abyss, focusing instead on the concern in her blue eyes. The moment I realized I had a death grip on her hip, I released her, and used every trick I knew to get my emotions locked back down. Christ, I needed to get it together.

"I'm sorry, Carlos," Marco said using his talk-the-man-in-from-the-ledge voice, "I know you and Papa—"

"Babe," I said, cutting Marco off. There were some things I needed to say to Marco, but I didn't want Stephanie to get caught in the crossfire any more than she already had.

"Will you wait outside for me?" I asked quietly. She paused for a moment, as if she didn't trust that we'd both walk out of the room alive. I squeezed her hand in mine to let her know that everything would be okay and tried to sound to reassuring. "I'll only be a minute."

She looked at me for another long moment before turning to leave, her worry palpable.

It wasn't until the door clicked behind Stephanie that I finally looked at Marco. He appeared suitably contrite and a little wary. Smart man.

Marco flinched when he caught the look I was leveling at him, "Carlos—"

"I don't want to hear it," I interrupted, my voice tightly controlled. "I know you have reasons for how you feel, but right now, I need you to keep it out of my face." Maybe I was being harsh. Maybe I was being unfair. I didn't care.

He gave me a long measuring look, but didn't say anything more. Marco nodded his understanding, silent and serious for once. I turned to go, pausing with my back to him to add, "And if you pull that shit with Mamá, it'll kill her."

I stood there for a moment, not sure if he was going to acknowledge me. "You're right," he said, finally. "I'll behave, little brother. I promise."

I nodded and moved to leave, when Marco spoke again, "I like your Stephanie, Carlos."

A soft huff of air escaped me, a mixture of amusement and self-derision and I stared at the wood of the door that separated me from her. "She isn't mine," I said quietly and I left the room.

)()()()()-()()()()(

Stephanie was waiting outside, accompanied again by the lumbering watchdog, Buddy. Without a word, Stephanie followed me as I made my way to the elevator and for that I was grateful. My control was a fragile thing right now and I wanted nothing more than to escape the attention I was attracting from the men on the floor.

I was disgusted with my reaction in Marco's office. It had been a long time since I'd lost myself in my emotions like that. Even longer since I'd felt this sort of grief. I'd had lots of reasons to grieve over the years, but in battle, you learned put it aside and keep fighting. That's just what I needed to do now. But for some reason it wasn't coming as easily.

It would probably be better—safer—if I just spent some time alone, but I liked having Stephanie near me. Still, I was going to have to stay in better control of myself and be more aware of my surroundings. I was a danger to myself and others when I wasn't. Maybe it was selfish of me to let her near me right now. Probably it would be prudent to stay away.

Stephanie's hand on my arm startled me from my internal deliberations and I saw her hurt and confusion at my reaction. She pulled away from me, but that was the last thing I wanted, despite my best intentions of a moment ago to keep my distance. I reached out for her hand before she could go far and brought her back to me.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked, dreading the answer, but needing to know.

"What?" she asked, her brow pulled into a pucker.

"In Marco's office…," I started, not sure if I could explain what had been going on in my head. "I… I didn't mean to hurt you." Fuck. I felt a sick twist of guilt in my gut at the thought of bruises marking her white skin. I brushed my knuckles lightly over her hip, and wished the soft touch could erase the brutal one from before.

I felt her responding to my caress. I could smell the light scent of her shampoo and feel the heat of her skin searing me through the light fabric of her skirt. God. I wanted to sink my fingers into her hair and drown myself in her kiss. But I couldn't. She swayed toward me slightly before catching herself. "No… no… of course not," she said. "Ranger, I'm fine. What about you?"

I wasn't fine. I'd left _fine_ a few miles back, was passing through _miserable_ and careening toward _wretched_. And let's not forget _pathetic_, surely I'd encountered that somewhere along the way. But this wasn't the time or place for those types of admissions. I glanced at the camera in the corner of elevator. No place for weakness in front of my men. No place for weakness in my life, period.

"Not here," I said, and we went back to standing silently. But her hand was still in mine and I liked it there.

We were getting settled into the truck when my phone vibrated. Not a moment of peace in the life I'd chosen. I couldn't quite hold in my sigh.

When I glanced at the display I realized it was worse than I'd thought. "I think it's for you, Babe," I said, holding the phone up so Stephanie could read the display.

"Yo," I answered, slipping into the cocky-bastard persona that I knew annoyed the hell out of the cop.

There was a beat of silence before he responded, his anger barely restrained in his tight tone, "Is she with you?"

"Yes," I responded, feeling my mood improve. Fucking with Morelli was a good time.

"Where are you?" he asked. By the accusation in his tone, I could guess he'd already heard the truth and was just looking for confirmation.

"Miami," I said, not offering anything more.

"What are you doing there?" was the next interrogation question. I wanted respond _Stephanie_, but as much fun as that would be, she probably wouldn't appreciate it.

"It's a personal matter," I finally answered.

He was silent for a long moment and I could tell he didn't like my less-than-forthcoming answers. With what was probably great effort, he managed to be only mildly belligerent when he asked, "Do you remember the conversation we had about what would happen if you moved in on me with Stephanie?"

He was breathing heavily into the mouth piece of his cell and I figured I had about five seconds before the cop erupted. "Yes," I answered calmly and counted to five before I pulled the phone away from my ear, just as the screaming started.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: I still don't own them…

**A/N**: Thanks for all of the great feedback on this story! I love to hear what y'all think.

**Rating**: PG-13, for the moment.

**Chapter 8**

_Stephanie_

As Ranger answered the phone, I realized I was glad I hadn't eaten anything yet. I was feeling a little nauseous at the thought of what was happening on the other side of the conversation and of course, I couldn't get a lot of information from this side of it. So far all Ranger had to say was, "Yes… Miami…. It's a personal matter," and then, "Yes," again.

I sighed, wishing I could hear what Joe was saying. A moment later, Ranger held the phone away from his ear, Joe's bellows coming from the speakers and I immediately longed to take back my previous wish. I couldn't quite make out the words, but I could tell that Joe was not a happy camper.

Apparently Ranger was better at interpreting angry Italian male than I was (and you'd think I would've had plenty of practice by now) because when Joe took a breath between rants, Ranger put the phone back in place and replied. "I remember the conversation, Morelli. But I don't recall agreeing to anything of the sort." I had to admit, I was dying of curiosity and at the same time, maybe it was better if I never knew what they were talking about.

Ranger left the phone at his ear, so I guess Joe had reverted back to relatively normal volume levels. After a short pause, Ranger spoke again, saying, "You can try, Officer Morelli." There was menace in Ranger's voice that I'd only heard directed toward the bad guys. What it told me was Ranger was pissed. Full-on homicidal anger that he managed to keep locked down, but it radiated off him. And what I also knew was that Ranger had enough to worry about without having my personal life make his life more stressful. Not for the first time, I wondered if maybe I should've stayed home.

Ranger directed his attention to me, not bothering to mute the phone or cover the mouthpiece. "Babe, would you like to talk to Morelli?"

While I wasn't wild about the two of them talking to each other, presumably about me, I didn't really want to take the phone. Judging by Joe's current mood, I thought that maybe we should talk in like, say, a week when I got back to Trenton, or maybe in a few months when his temper had cooled off. I shook my head at Ranger, eyes wide, making the kill sign across my neck.

He replied with a raised an eyebrow either in question or in challenge, I'm not sure which. I guess he didn't want me to take the coward's way out.

I really, really didn't want to talk to Joe, but I sighed heavily and reached out for the phone. Ranger handed it over and started up the truck, pulling out of the lot and hopefully directing us to somewhere I could get one last meal before Joe reached through the phone and strangled me.

"Hello?" I asked, rather tentatively.

I was answered by heavy breathing on the other end. If I didn't know who it was, I'd swear I had a new secret admirer making obscene phone calls. Actually, the fact that it was Joe on the line and not some stalker was almost scarier. Gulp.

"Joe?" I asked when the heavy breathing continued. I considered playing that the call had been dropped. But who was I kidding. This was Ranger's phone I was using. His network wouldn't even think of dropping a call. Nothing but the best for him. He'd probably get service on the Moon.

"Can you tell me what the hell is going on, _Babe_?" Joe's angry voice interrupted my thoughts. Apparently he'd used the breathing time to get little control of himself, because though the tone was harsh, the volume was normal.

"I'm going to be out of town for the next few days," I said lightly, as if this was news to him.

"Is there something more you're not telling me?" he asked. I could tell he was gritting his teeth.

I hesitated, not exactly sure what he was going for, "No." It came out a little less confident than I'd have liked.

"Are you sure, Stephanie? Because your actions are speaking pretty, damned loudly."

"I don't understand what you're talking about. I'm helping a friend. That's all there is to it."

"Just think, Stephanie. If the situation was reversed and I left town with some woman without telling you and you had to hear about it from your mother, who overheard it from the busybodies down at the market, how would you feel?"

I swallowed a lump. I'd be upset. I'd be hurt. I'd be out for blood. It would be a lie if I tried to deny it. But, if I admitted all of that out loud, I wouldn't be me. Instead I went on the offensive. "Ranger isn't just some guy, Joe. He's my friend. You're making this into a bigger deal than it is."

"No," Joe retaliated, voice rising. "He isn't just some guy. He's a guy who wants to get in your pants, Stephanie. Christ."

No, I thought (to myself luckily), actually Ranger was a guy who'd already been in my pants and was so impressed, he sent me right back to you. Out loud, though, I just reiterated my point, "Joe, you're making too much of this. Ranger is my friend." I glanced over at Ranger then, but his head was turned away, jaw clenched, staring out the window as we idled at a red light. It felt really weird to be having this conversation in front of him. But, I didn't have much choice. It was a big truck, but there was only so much space. The thing was Ranger and I didn't really discuss my relationship with Joe. It was always there keeping us apart and our hormones mostly in check, but we didn't talk about it. It felt odd letting him see how Joe and I handled our differences.

"Joe," I said, softening my tone, trying not to act like an ass in front of Ranger, "I'm not sending you any messages. Ranger needed my help, I'm helping him. I'd do no less for any of my friends." Of course, I kept it to myself that my feelings for Ranger went deeper than friendship. I didn't really want to get into that with either man right now.

"You know, Steph, I hear what you're saying, but I think we both know there's more going on here. And I've tried to be patient and I've tried to tolerate the situation, but I'm reaching the end of my rope. I don't think this relationship is big enough for the three of us anymore."

"What are you saying?" I asked, feeling dread in the pit of my stomach.

"It means maybe its time you decide what you want." He blew out a long breath and I could almost see him running his hand through his hair. "I'm tired. Of the games. Of the back and forth. I want to settle down with you. I want you to want that, too."

Oh, hell. This conversation was veering into dangerous "commitment discussion" territory really quickly. "Do we have to do this now?" I asked, maybe a little huffy for someone who was trying to make peace, even if it was just for the benefit of the audience. I mean, come on, I avoided all thoughts of committing to Morelli on a good day… and today was not shaping up to be a good day. Frankly, the best shot Morelli had of getting me to commit to more than we had right now was to bring it up during the three minutes of orgasmic afterglow following a round of balls-to-the-walls sex. Of course during those times, Joe's desires ran more towards a meatball sub or a nap, not a ring and a marriage certificate.

"Fine," Joe said, getting huffy right back, but at least he wasn't yelling. "We won't do this now. But soon. You can't avoid this forever, Stephanie." Huh. Shows how well he knows me.

"Sure, Joe," I said, relieved and aggravated at the same time, but he had already disconnected.

"Yeesh," I said, staring for a moment at the display reading Call Ended. I closed the phone and handed it back to Ranger who took it without looking and slid it back into its holster. Glancing over at him, I tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Yeah, right.

He was in his driving zone, or whatever, but he was more on edge than normal. Who could blame him, though? He'd been through a lot so far today and we hadn't even had a decent meal, yet. We drove several city blocks before he spoke.

"I can call the airline and arrange a ticket back for you," he said finally. He was again staring out the window, still not looking at me.

I reached over and laid my hand on his leg, just above his knee. It was tense under my fingers, but relaxed after a moment. "I want to stay. Unless…" I hesitated, not wanting to be sent away, but not wanting to be a burden. "Maybe things would be easier with me out of your hair?"

It felt like forever before he answered and I was about to slide my hand away when he clasped it in his. "I want you here, Babe. Don't ever doubt it."

I squeezed his hand in mine, feeling a flush of warmth from his words.

_TBC_


	9. Chapter 9

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: They are JE's. If I owned them they probably wouldn't so much fun to play with.

**Rating**: R for language. Turns out Ranger has a potty-mind.

**Chapter 9**

_Ranger_

My teeth were clenched as I listened to Stephanie on the phone with the cop, the beginnings of a world-class headache forming at my temples. I would have refused to put her on the phone if I wasn't half convinced he'd show up on my doorstep otherwise. As it was, he'd cursed me out, questioned my parentage and when I told him I had no memory of agreeing not to make a move on Stephanie he threatened to make my life hell. Little did he know, on most days, his very existence was enough to do that. As far as my professional life went, I wasn't too worried. I had friends in high places and I knew how to use them.

Still, his attitude, his fucking grating voice and the fact that he had any claim on Stephanie was pissing me off. Okay, I could ignore the first two, but the last one was a real ball-buster. The only consolation was the fact that Stephanie looked like she'd rather have a root canal than talk to him. I gotta admit that gave me a little happy.

But since I really didn't want to see Morelli anytime soon, I challenged her to bite the bullet and get on the phone.

Of course since we were sitting in the truck, I was stuck listening their conversation. Fucking beautiful. I pulled out of the garage, heading for the restaurant, hoping I could escape into what Stephanie would call my "zone." I didn't know what I'd call it, but driving always seemed to relax me. Things seemed simpler when I was behind the wheel.

Not today.

Joe's strident voice was carrying from the cell phone and I could make a pretty good guess at what he was saying, the accusations he was hurling at her.

My suspicions were confirmed when Stephanie defensively replied, "I don't understand what you're talking about. I'm helping a friend. That's all there is to it."

That's all there was to it. Fuck me. I sighed mentally.

I really didn't want to hear this. Hell, it wasn't that I didn't want to be her friend, but the truth was I wanted to be more. No matter how impossible it was. And then she said I was 'just a friend' again. And again. And again.

Christ. Pretty soon she'd be telling Morelli that she didn't think of me _that _way. That I was like a brother.

And then she started to get upset, her own temper starting to get the better of her. Who could blame her? She'd been letting Morelli chew her out for the last five minutes. I liked to see her stand up for herself. But I didn't like that I was putting her in this kind of situation.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe she'd be better off going back to her life.

Then maybe I could get back to the life I had before she came into it. Sure, and maybe pigs could fly.

She'd finally managed to get him off the phone and I could feel her eyes on me. Without looking at her, I said, "I can call the airline and arrange a ticket back for you." I stared out the window, already feeling the emptiness that came every time I returned her to Morelli. Well, with everything that was going on, a little more misery wouldn't make that much difference. Yeah, right. Keep kidding yourself, Manoso.

"I want to stay," she said, her hand warm on my knee and her words succor to my soul. "Unless… maybe things would be easier with me out of your hair?"

Easier without her? Hardly. Being around her was the easiest part of my complicated life. Keeping my distance – that was the real challenge. I looked over at her, her teeth worrying her lower lip. I'm guessing she didn't know that.

She started to pull her hand away and I snagged it in my own without even thinking about it. Since I'd learned about my father, I craved her touch like she craved doughnuts. "I want you here, Babe. Don't ever doubt it," I said. And it was true. But I had one small reservation. "But," I started without really thinking about it. Shit. Did I really want to finish that thought?

No. But one look at Stephanie's expression and I knew I couldn't leave it hanging.

I pulled the truck into a space and wondered how I could say this without sounding like a total pussy. As soon as we were stopped, Stephanie was trying to pull her hand from mine to make her escape. But, I wouldn't let go. No matter how often I'd tried, I couldn't let go.

I pulled her toward me, until we were separated by just a few inches. She wouldn't meet my eyes. After a moment of staring down at the graceful crescents of her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, I tipped her chin up compelling her to look at me. I forced myself to sound casual when I asked, "Is that really all I am to you? Just a friend?"

"You are my friend, Ranger," she said. "Probably my best friend." Her eyes, which had been bright with tears, softened with an expression that told me my offhand tone hadn't fooled her for a moment. She knew my question was serious. I waited, wanting there to be more. Finally she said, "But you're more than that, too."

She didn't disappoint.

Her cheek was velvet under my fingertips, her eyes were holding mine and I needed to taste her. I lowered my lips to hers in a kiss, keeping it gentle, soft, but full of potential. When my tongue slid into the heat of her mouth, my body urged me to deepen it, to be more aggressive. But I let my head rule. I didn't want her to feel pushed. I didn't want to apply pressure. This time I needed to know that she wanted this as much as I did.

And it was perfect, the way she sank into me with a soft sigh, in silent approval of the kiss. Christ, she made me want things I shouldn't. She was a temptation I should swear off, like dessert. I really shouldn't be kissing her.

I knew the precise moment she realized that she shouldn't be kissing me, either. She stiffened, pulling herself from me slightly, all pliancy gone. God damn the cop, I mentally cursed, ending the kiss reluctantly. "Don't tell me, Babe," I said. "I know. I'm poaching."

"Come on, let's get food," I said, moving to get out of the truck. For the brief moment I was out of her sight, I worked to shake off my arousal and my disappointment. When she met me on the sidewalk, it was a comfort to notice that Stephanie looked like she was having the same problem. Maybe I was a selfish mercenary bastard, but I liked knowing that one kiss could have her forgetting that we were "just friends." If only it was enough to make me forget why we couldn't be more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: They are JE's. If I owned them they probably wouldn't so much fun to play with.

**A/N**: Confession time. I've only been to Miami once and that was to board a cruise ship. I'm not at all familiar with the area and frankly I'm too lazy and impatient to do more than cursory research for this story. My apologies if you live in Miami or are familiar with the city. Please excuse the errors.

**Rating**: R, for some language. We're getting warmer…

"_I want you here, Babe. Don't ever doubt it."_

_I squeezed his hand in mine, feeling a flush of warmth from his words._

**Chapter 10**

_Stephanie_

"But…" Ranger continued, trailing off as he maneuvered the truck into a parking space.

Now, in my experience nothing good followed the word _but_. Like when my boss at E.E. Martin said, "You're a great employee, _but_ there won't be a place for you here after the buyout," or when Dickie-the-Wonder-Ass said, "I love you, _but_ Joyce lets me do her from behind." So, it was not surprising that the word _but_ on Ranger's lips right after he'd said what he said was dimming my glow more than a little. And I waited impatiently for him to drop the bomb. Something like, 'I want you here, Babe. Don't ever doubt it. But, you're a real pain in the ass and you're more trouble than your worth and your boobs are too small.'

Still not finishing his thought, Ranger put the truck in park and removed his seatbelt. I did the same, but when I tried to pull my hand from his to escape the truck along with whatever crushing comment was coming, Ranger tightened his grip and pulled me toward him. I ended up leaning across the console, inches away from him, our hands clasped between us. He tipped my chin up with his forefinger until my eyes met his. "Is that really all I am to you? Just a friend?"

His tone was light, but somehow I could tell my answer mattered to him. It was hard to believe that a man like him would care how I viewed him. I mean, he could crook his finger and women would fall at his feet. But, for some reason he cared what little, ol' Stephanie Plum from the Burg thought.

In a soft voice, I answered, "You are my friend, Ranger. Probably my best friend." His hand slid up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone. There was something vulnerable in his eyes that persuaded me to add, "But you're more than that, too."

With a whisper of movement, he lowered his lips to mine. They were soft as they caressed me, drawing me into his kiss. A flutter started low in my belly and a wash of pleasure brought goosebumps to my skin. With a small sigh, I relaxed into him as he deepened the kiss, the hot silk of his tongue slipping into my mouth. Unlike the majority of our kisses, which were all bone-melting, this kiss contained more than just heat and passion. This one had caring and friendship and maybe even love. With that thought, I stiffened and Ranger pulled away from me, a little reluctantly.

He spoke before my scrambled neurons could reassemble, "Don't tell me, Babe. I know. I'm poaching."

Huh? Oh, right. Joe. He hadn't even entered my mind. And here I'd only just assured him that everything was innocent.

Ranger pressed one more, quick kiss to my lips and moved to get out of the truck. "Come on, let's get food."

I slid out of the truck, mentally flogging myself. What the heck was I doing? Sure, Joe and I weren't exactly happy at the moment, but we were still together. I was almost positive of that. Nearly entirely, sorta, kinda positive.

Normally, in my mind, I'd lay all the responsibility on Ranger when we had a "close encounter." But this time had been different. Rather than taking what he'd wanted up against a wall in an alley, he'd almost asked permission. Okay, not in so many words, but the kiss had been sweet and slow and easy and I could have stopped it if I'd wanted to. Of course that thought never once entered my mind. Not that I'd ever really wanted Ranger to stop kissing me in the past either. Even against the wall in the alley, it was convenient to blame it on Ranger, but the truth was I knew exactly what was going to happen when he'd ask to speak to me privately. And while I'd deny it 'til I was blue in the face, I wanted it as much, or maybe more than he did.

I walked around the ­truck and joined Ranger on the sidewalk, feeling a bit off center and more than a little confused. He immediately took my hand again, almost as if he was having a hard time being away from me, and I automatically felt better. I guess being around him soothed me, too.

We walked down a narrow alley between two buildings and crossed a wide street which bordered the ocean. The street was lined with stores typical of a beach front, surf shops, cafés and the normal tourist traps. The air was heavy with humidity and the smell of salt water. The calls of water birds competed with the noise from the traffic on the street.

Ranger guided me into a small café and we were seated on a patio overlooking the beach. It was warm in the sun, but the breeze off the water kept it comfortable and even though it was winter back home, here people were enjoying themselves in the sand and surf.

We ordered, a sandwich for me and a salad for him, and settled back to enjoy the beautiful day and the beautiful people in companionable silence. That was something I'd had to learn about Ranger and had to get used to when I was around him. He didn't try to fill in the silence with useless words. But when he did speak, he was always worth listening to.

We were quiet throughout lunch, each absorbed in our own thoughts. So, I was surprised when he said, "I'm sorry about earlier."

Did he mean the kiss or making me talk to Joe, I wondered.

"With Marco," he clarified.

"No, Ranger, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. I just didn't realize—"

"Really, Babe. Don't blame yourself. I'm sorry I got upset, but I wasn't upset with you. It's just Marco has some issues."

I'd say that was putting it mildly and the incredulous look on my face must have communicated that thought.

"Okay, that's an understatement. But, he has reasons for how he feels. Still, I'm just not in a place to deal with it right now. And if Marco pulls that with my mother, it'll kill her."

"I guess I just don't understand why he feels the way he does. You obviously cared a great deal for your father."

Ranger blew out a sigh and stared out at the ocean, but I got the feeling that he was really looking at the past. "My father was a good man. Moral to a fault. He did what was right no matter the consequences." Hmm. That sounded a lot like the man sitting in front of me. I wondered if he realized that.

Ranger paused, playing idly with the goblet of water sitting in front of him, spinning it in a circle, lost in thought. Finally, he continued, "But, he was hard to live with. He had impossible standards. Especially for his sons, and we couldn't help but disappoint him. He doted on my sisters, but Marco and I had a rough time.

"Still, everything good that I've done, everything I've accomplished, I did to make him proud of me. When I was a kid, I disappointed him. I rebelled. I got into trouble and Marco was always right there with me, helping me to figure out how to make it worse. I told you that I got arrested for boosting a car, right?" He looked up at me and I nodded slowly.

He dropped his eyes back to the swirling water in his glass, his lips quirking in a mirthless smile. "I never told you it was my father's car. Marco had asked to borrow it and Papa told him no, so we took it. When Papa found out what we'd done, he called the police and reported it stolen. Wanted us to learn a lesson, so he pressed charges. We had to get a public defender, the whole nine yards. It was a mess. My mother was worried out of her mind."

I couldn't hold in the soft sound of sympathy for Ranger. It was hard to believe that a parent would do that to their own child, no matter the reason.

Ranger looked up at me and smiled for real this time, reaching over to squeeze my hand where it rested on the table. "I know what you're thinking, Babe. I felt the same way at the time, but the truth is he did the right thing. I was heading for big trouble and I don't know where I would've ended up. Dead, probably… just another drug-dealing, street thug, gang-banging statistic. Getting arrested was a wake-up call. I was sent to juvie for a few months and when I got out, I came down here to live with my grandma. I wasn't happy with my father and he wasn't speaking with me, either, but at least I straightened out."

Ranger continued, absently tracing my fingers with his own as he spoke, "Marco's situation didn't work out so well. He was old enough that he was facing actual jail time, but since I was driving, the judge gave him the option of probation and compulsory military service. He hated every minute of it, but if he didn't stay in for three years, his probation would've been revoked and he would've had to do the time. So he rode it out, just skating by and when he was discharged, he settled down here, too. But he's never quite gotten past it.

"Papa didn't speak to either of us that whole time. I know he talked to my grandma, but he didn't visit and he didn't call. When the family came down to Miami, he didn't come with them. When Marco or I called home, he wouldn't get on the phone. Even when I went back to New Jersey to Rutgers, we didn't speak. For almost ten years, it was like we were dead to him and he was dead to us. But, a few years ago, just after I'd gotten out of the Army and was starting the business down here, he came to see me. Wanted to reconcile. Said he'd been wrong. And he had been – not for letting me face up to the consequences, but for not forgiving me when I got my life straightened out. But I'd been wrong, too and it was good to have him back in my life. You know, I wish things had happened differently. That we hadn't lost those years. We both were so stubborn. But, at least we got the chance to reconnect." Ranger's hand stilled, covering mine. He was silent for a long moment, immersed in his memories. I wanted to say something, do something, to erase the hurt that he'd gone through as a boy and was going through now. I've never felt so useless.

Ranger cleared his throat and added, "Papa tried to talk to Marco, but Marco just wasn't ready to forgive him. Now he'll never have the chance."

"How sad," I said, feeling a deep sorrow for Marco and Ranger welling up in me. Even for his father who had made mistakes, but tried to make it right in the end. I felt the corners of my eyes moisten and I concentrated hard, staring at my hand interlocked with Ranger's, willing myself not to cry.

Throwing a few bills down on the table, Ranger stood, pulling me up with him by our entwined hands and into a hug. After a moment he pulled back, sliding both hands up to gently cradle my face, brushing at the moisture that had gathered there with his thumbs. He tilted my head back and kissed me softly, heedless of the fact that we were standing in the middle of a crowded little restaurant.

"Thank you for listening, Babe," he said when he lifted his lips from mine, resting his forehead against my own.

"I wish I could do more," I said, squeezing him lightly where I still had my arms wrapped around his back.

"You do more than you know." He smiled and we walked out onto the sunny street, hand-in-hand.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: They are JE's. If I owned them they probably wouldn't so much fun to play with.

**A/N**: I've rearranged and renumbered the chapters to fit all of the back chapters in sequence. In case you are looking, the most recently added chapters are 5, 7 and 9.

**Rating**: R, for some language. We're getting warmer…

**Chapter 11**

_Ranger_

I walked with Stephanie out onto the sidewalk, enjoying the feel of the sunshine and the fresh sea breeze on my face. I loved Miami. I'd always felt more at ease here than I did in Trenton. Partly it was because Miami was a bigger city and I wasn't as well known on the street. Partly it was because with the dominant Latino population, I blended in better down here. But mostly it was because my time in Miami had been about starting over with a clean slate. This was where I'd made the decision to become the man I was today.

As we strolled down the street, Stephanie swung our joined hands between us. She was eagerly taking in the sights and the sounds of the waterfront, her excitement plain to see. That openness was one of the things that drew me to her. I never had to guess what she was thinking. I never had to wonder if she was playing games. All the answers were right there in her expressive eyes, in the tilt of her lips, in the slant of her eyebrows and in the flush of color on her cheeks. She could fib with the best of them, but not to me… not to someone who had taken the time to study every nuance of her expression as I'd been doing since the day we met. There were few women in my life that I knew as well and trusted as thoroughly as I did Stephanie Plum.

She probably didn't even realize how special she was to me, or that there were only a handful of people outside of my immediate family who knew about my strained relationship with my father. I wondered if maybe this time Miami could serve as a clean slate for me and Stephanie, too… a chance to let her see _me_ for a change and not just the façade that I put on for my reputation.

It had felt therapeutic to confide in her because I rarely talked about my troubled youth, not even with my family. If Stephanie thought she was the Queen of Denial, she had yet to meet my relatives. My sisters had stayed out of the mess, the younger ones too little to really understand what was going on at the time, my older sister, Celia, already busy with her own family by then. And we had all learned that those "unpleasant times" were not discussed in my mother's presence. I don't think she ever got over the guilt of not standing up to my father during the long years of silence. In the war of Manoso vs. Manoso, she had aligned herself against her sons and she'd never quite forgiven herself for it, so she just chose to ignore it.

It had taken time, but I think I finally understood why she'd done what she did, and I'd gotten past it. Maribel Manoso came from an era where the man was the head of the house and what he said was as good as law. And my father brooked nothing less. That she'd kept in touch with us at all had been remarkable and she did the best she could, sending care packages and letters, making phone calls and the occasional visit. In the end, though, her efforts didn't make up for the distance or for the lack of a mother.

My grandmother had filled that void, though. She'd been the firm hand that kept me out of trouble, had been the gentle arms that consoled me when I faltered and the wise eyes that helped me see the path to this point in my life. I was successful, useful and satisfied with what I'd accomplished. Showing my father that I was worthy of his love had been a driving factor, but I wouldn't have made it without my grandmother's guidance.

I felt Stephanie's gaze on me and I realized we had stopped walking and were facing out over a marina with dozens of sparkling, white boats bobbing on the water's surface. Stephanie was standing quietly at my side, her eyes on my face and not on the picturesque view. I wasn't sure how long we'd been standing there or how much time I'd spent lost in my thoughts.

"Sorry," I said, feeling a little sheepish, but concealing it through long practice. I had totally lost track of my surroundings and if Stephanie were a mean person, she'd throw one of my favorite sayings right back in my face.

But she wasn't and she didn't. She just squeezed my hand, a soft smile on her lips.

The breeze had caught a strand of her hair and I tucked it behind her ear then bent down to kiss her gently. I craved more, but we were standing on the street in broad daylight and no matter what I wanted, she still belonged to someone else.

Stephanie turned to look over the water, taking a deep breath and bringing the fingertips of her free hand to her trace over her lower lip. Her actions strongly tempted me to kiss her again, but instead I stepped behind her and pulled her back against my chest, wrapping my arms around her waist. I rested my chin on her curls and stared out at the late afternoon sunshine dancing on the ripples of the water's surface. I wanted the world to stop for just a few minutes so I could stand here with Stephanie, soft in my arms, and enjoy the quiet moment. But it was getting late, and there were things I should be doing.

If I knew my family, they would all be gathered at my grandmother's modest house in Little Havana by now. Well, everyone except Marco. The house would be bursting with people, the women gathered in the little kitchen and spilling into the living room, the men on the front porch, the children all over, but mostly restricted to running around the backyard. My aunt's sixtieth birthday had been on Saturday, which was why my mother and father had been visiting in Miami in the first place, so there would already be extended family in town, and more would be arriving all the time. It would be a madhouse.

This would go on for days until the funeral was over and Mamá went back home to Newark. Celia had told me the plan was to have a memorial service at home in Jersey afterwards, but my father would be buried here in Miami with his father and older brother in the family plot.

I really ought to go over to my grandmother's house, be sociable, pay my respects, but I just wasn't up for it yet. Seeing my mother would make it all too real and I wasn't ready to be strong for them. For once I didn't want to have to be strong for anyone, not even myself. For once I wanted to shirk responsibility, but there was one thing I couldn't put off doing any longer.

"I thought I'd stop in to see Julie," I said, turning Stephanie slightly in my arms so I could see her face. "Do you want to come along?"

)()()()-()()()(

_Stephanie_

We walked back down the street the way we'd come, our pace a little quicker this time. When Ranger had asked if I wanted to go with him to visit Julie, I'd told him, "Of course. I'd love to." And that was the truth. For one, I was thrilled that Ranger was including me - it would have been very easy for him to drop me back off at the office and take off without telling me what he was up to. For the other, Julie and I had bonded. I might not be a kid-person, but she was a special little girl and I wanted to see how she was doing.

I walked silently beside Ranger as he made a phone call, presumably to Rachel, to let her know we were on our way. I studied his profile as he spoke. He'd been pensive and brooding all afternoon. Quiet, I was used to, preoccupied was new. Ranger was usually so aware, taking in the environment effortlessly, even as his agile mind solved the problem at hand. Today, there had been long minutes where he was mentally far away and I'd found myself scanning the crowds, watching his back for him, glad for the small handgun in my bag. It wasn't that I'd sensed any threat. It was just that I knew Ranger was always hyper-alert to danger and if he couldn't be, then the least I could do was try to fill in. He normally had his guard up for good reason and I doubted that those reasons would give him time off for mourning.

Once we'd gotten settled into the truck and were on the road, I asked, "Did Julie know your father?"

"Yeah," he said, linking his hand in mine once again, the action becoming nearly as natural as breathing now. "They were actually pretty close. My parents spent a lot of time down here because most of our relatives live in the area. And they always made a point to come see Julie when they were in town. Ron and Rachel were really great about letting them be a part of her life and I didn't mind as long as it didn't jeopardize Julie's safety."

"How is she taking it?" I wondered, thinking that Julie had already been through a lot this year, with the kidnapping, seeing her father get shot and then shooting Scrog herself.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "Rachel hasn't told her yet. She thought it would be best if I was there when she did."

"Oh," I said softly, surprised. Not that I could blame her for procrastinating, but the little I'd seen of Rachel Martine had given me the impression that she was Super-Mom: able to handle anything.

Ranger went on to explain, "Right after I got shot, Julie was having serious nightmares. Sometimes about Ron and Rachel, sometimes about her brother or sister, but usually about me… dying. She's been working with a counselor over the past few months and has been doing really well. Rachel and her counselor thought it might help a little to have all of us there when we told her the news. Maybe if she can see that we're okay we can keep from triggering the nightmares again and prevent her therapy from regressing."

I wasn't terrific with kids. Sure, I had nieces and I loved them, but I wasn't exactly involved in raising them. Dealing with a bereaved Ranger was challenging enough, but a ten-year-old would be entirely outside of my experience. Maybe it would have been safer for me to wait back at the office.

"I understand why Rachel wants me here, but…" Ranger swallowed, his voice trailing off. He looked uncomfortable as he glanced over at me, "I don't know what I'm doing. I can't change the fact that he's gone. I don't know if I can make this any easier for her and I don't want to screw up."

Ranger wasn't a man to admit weakness. He was always in control and always knew exactly what he was doing. And I could tell it cost him a great deal of pride to admit his fears. Finally feeling useful, I squeezed his hand and assured him, "You'll be fine. And you know why?" I didn't pause to get his answer, but plowed right ahead, "Because you are one of the most intuitive, intelligent people I've ever met. You'll know what to say when the time comes."

He looked at me for a long moment and then kissed the back of my hand. "Thanks, Babe," he said, turning his attention back to the road.

Ranger was driving through quiet residential neighborhoods, taking turns periodically. I didn't have any clue where we were or where we were going, but I'd swear he was driving in circles. I caught him glancing in his side mirror before taking a left down a side street. We drove two blocks before taking another left, heading back the way we'd come. Straightening in my seat, I pulled down the visor, flipping open the vanity mirror. "Are we being followed?"

Ranger flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror and took a right. "No," he said as I scanned the street behind us for a tail. "I'm just more cautions when I come to visit now. Just in case."

After a few more turns, Ranger pulled up to a gated neighborhood, stopping beside a guard booth. He made a subtle nod to the large black-clad security guard, presumably one of his own men, and the scrolled metal gates blocking the entrance parted.

"My first instinct after the whole thing with Scrog was to cut off all contact with Julie," Ranger said softly as we passed through the gate and drove down a street bordered by quietly elegant homes. "Of course I still would've sent financial support, but I told Rachel that I thought it was too dangerous to visit. That idea was vigorously overruled by Rachel and Julie. Now more than ever Julie's been interested in getting to know me and her counselor thought it would help her come to grips with her experience. Since Rachel's first concern is Julie, she was willing to do anything to make that happen.

"We compromised. They moved into a secured neighborhood and agreed to a few other security measures. I agreed to be more involved." Ranger pulled the truck to a stop in front of a rambling, single-story, stucco house surrounded by big old trees dripping with Spanish moss. He sat quietly for a moment before saying, "So, this is it."

He looked hesitant to go inside and figured that maybe this was one time I should make the first move. "Ready?" I asked. I looked toward the front door and saw the dark haired girl come streaking toward us.

"Ready or not," he said with a soft laugh, "here Julie comes."


	12. Chapter 12

**Title**: Saying Goodbye

**Author**: Robin

**Disclaimer**: The characters you recognize belong to JE, I'm just using them for my own nefarious purposes… to eventually get Ranger nekkid. : )

**A/N**: Sorry for the loooong wait for this update. I suck, I know.

**Chapter 12**

_Ranger_

Julie was dancing around, bouncing from foot to foot in excitement by the time Stephanie and I got out of the car. She immediately launched herself at Stephanie, hitting her with enough force to knock her back two steps. "Stephanie!!" she squealed, "I can't believe you're here! My mom just told me you were coming and I didn't believe her. This is so great!"

I couldn't help but smile at Julie's enthusiasm as I met Stephanie's eyes over Julie's head. Stephanie looked slightly out of her element, but she was smiling and hugging Julie back, saying, "It's so good to see you, Jules."

Julie was slightly shier when she turned to greet me, but her beautiful smile was still in place. "Hi, Ranger," she said as she stepped toward me and wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing her face into my side. I awkwardly returned the hug, gently patting her back. I felt a foreign swell of emotion as Julie pulled away and I caught a look on Stephanie's face, her lower lip between her teeth, the corner of her mouth turned up.

Before I could figure out what that expression meant, Julie was in motion again, tugging Stephanie and I by the hands toward the house. We obligingly followed behind for fear of losing our arms.

Once inside, Rachel welcomed us both warmly. "It is nice to see you again, Stephanie," she said giving her a friendly hug. "And you, Carlos." Rachel gave me a meaningful look, conveying her sympathy without words.

"Hello, Rachel," I said. I was uncomfortable standing in Rachel's foyer, feeling emotionally exposed under Rachel's keen scrutiny. Luckily Julie didn't notice the underlying tension, too focused on showing Stephanie around. With an measuring glance toward me, Stephanie allowed herself to be led up stairs to Julie's room, leaving Rachel and I alone.

Wordlessly, Rachel led the way into her homey kitchen. She pulled a couple of coffee mugs from a cabinet next to the sink, dropped a tea bag in each and filled them with hot water from the kettle on the stove. Setting the mugs on the kitchen table, she took a seat. "How are you holding up?" Rachel asked gently, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her tea.

I lowered myself heavily into a chair across from her and gave her a shrug without meeting her eyes. Wrapping my hands around the warm mug, I watched as the essence of the tea permeated the water, swirling up from the bottom of the cup. "I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I thought we'd have more time," I said, not liking how my voice sounded to my ears. Broken. Vulnerable. Sad.

I took a sip of tea, focusing on the slight burn as I swallowed, using that physical sensation to get my emotions under control. It was a trick I'd learned in the Rangers. Focus on a small discomfort and you can block out the larger ones.

Rachel said nothing more, knowing better than to pry. She and I weren't exactly what you'd call close, but she knew me better than most. We'd gone to the same high school here in Miami, though we traveled in very different social circles back then. One weekend when I was on leave, bar hopping with Marco, I ran into her. We started out reminiscing about our mutual acquaintances over a couple of beers and ended up falling into bed. Well, technically we fell into the back seat of Rachel's car, but whatever.

When Rachel found out she was pregnant, we got married down at the courthouse, no muss, no fuss. Making it legal meant that Rachel and Julie would have access to certain military perks like medical coverage, my housing stipend and death benefits if I never came home. After the wedding we cohabitated for all of three weeks until I was shipped off to my next duty station. It was long enough for two virtual strangers to realize that pregnancy and a wedding didn't constitute a marriage. We got divorced shortly after Julie was born because while I was crawling through jungles, completely in denial that I was married with a kid on the way, Rachel went and fell in love with Ron. We parted amicably, only arguing when I insisted that I would continue to contribute monetarily to Julie's upbringing no matter that Ron adopted her. In exchange, Rachel insisted that I visit when I was in town.

When I got out of the Rangers and was setting up shop in Miami, I spent a lot of time in their cozy little house, watching Julie grow, coming to respect Ron and getting to know my ex-wife. Over the years we developed a sort of friendship, though as my work posed a greater and greater danger to my loved ones, I visited less and less frequently. By the time Julie was old enough to understand who I was, I'd limited myself to short visits on special occasions. As it turned out with Scrog, even that was too much.

"So, how are you guys settling into the neighborhood?" I asked, changing the subject.

Rachel waived a hand absently, "The house is beautiful, and I've finally finished painting. The neighbors aren't bad. I miss my herb garden, but otherwise we're managing."

"I wish—"

"Stop, Carlos," she interrupted. "This is the way it has to be. I get that. Ron gets that. Julie gets that. I can replant my herb garden in the spring."

I just nodded tightly. We'd been over this before. While I regretted that my existence put Julie's life in danger, amazingly Rachel didn't blame me. She was willing to admit that the constant pressure she put on me to visit played a part as well. Rachel didn't do guilt trips and she didn't dwell. It was one of my favorite things about her. And now that Julie wanted to get to know me better, she and Ron had agreed to make certain concessions, like a new house in a secure neighborhood, private schools, GPS locators and bodyguards. I insisted on footing the bill for all of it, which is the only thing that Ron had an issue with. He stubbornly sent me a check each month to cover what would be the mortgage payment if I hadn't purchased the house in cash.

Rachel slid a glance toward the doorway before she said, "So, Stephanie…"

Oh, I was afraid of this. Rachel had been trying to get me to settle down for the better part of a decade and since she found out about Stephanie she'd been relentless. "You know it's not like that, Rachel," I said, for what must have been the hundredth time. "She's a good friend, but she's practically engaged to someone else."

"The cop that was with her at the hospital?" Rachel scoffed with a knowing smile. Her tone clearly communicated her disbelief. "If she's all into him, what's she doing here with you?"

I shrugged again and said in a deliberately casual tone, "I don't know. She asked to come along, and I couldn't say no." I caught the smile on Rachel's face and I knew that she didn't believe that any more than I did. Stephanie was here because I needed her, but I wasn't comfortable admitting that to myself. There was no way I was saying it out loud. Still, Rachel knew it.

A moment later, Julie bounced into the kitchen, Stephanie a few steps behind her. "Hey, Mom," Julie said excitedly, bounding over to Rachel's side. "Stephanie likes _High School Musical_, too. Isn't that cool?"

"That is cool, honey," Rachel said, smiling indulgently at Julie before sending a look of silent thanks toward Stephanie for being a good sport. "Would you like something to drink, Stephanie?" she asked.

"No, thank you," Stephanie said, smiling shyly as she took a seat with us at the table. I wanted to reach out and hold her hand, it just felt natural now. But I didn't want to contribute to Rachel's speculations.

"Julie gave me the fifty cent tour," Stephanie said. "Your home is very beautiful."

"Thank you. Carlos picked it out." I shot Rachel a pointed look and she amended, "Well he picked out several houses and gave Ron and I the final vote."

Stephanie looked at me and I answered her unspoken question. "I was more interested in the security than the closet space, Babe. Apparently this house has the best of both. Though I would prefer it if you would keep the blinds shut on these downstairs windows, Rachel." With a put upon sigh, mostly for Julie's grinning benefit, I got up and closed the plantation shutters on the window over the kitchen sink. We went through this routine every time I came for a visit.

"I happen to enjoy the sunshine, Carlos and this neighborhood is practically Fort Knox," she said rolling her eyes at me. Rachel turned toward Stephanie and asked with a laugh, "Have you ever noticed that he can be a bit of a control freak?"

"Hmm, yes, I think I've seen that side of him," Stephanie said, smiling, probably thinking about all the bodyguards I'd forced on her over the years.

"It's how he shows he cares, you know," Rachel said, giving me a smirk. I carefully controlled the expression on my face, but inside I was starting to catalog methods of torture. Rachel was going to pay for her machinations later. I wish she would stop pushing.

"Ranger is very generous with his friends," Stephanie said, her voice careful as she contemplated her fingernails. I looked at her for a moment, knowing from her posture and tone of voice that something was bothering her. But I'd be damned if I knew what.

I almost asked, but at that moment the door to the garage swung open and Ron was home. Rachel and Julie were both on their feet, welcoming him warmly. Julie hugged him exuberantly, shouting "Daddy!" as he scooped her up in his arms. Rachel kissed him softly, leaning into him for a moment. It was a family ritual I'd witnessed many times, the kind of intimate moment that made me feel very much alone.

I felt Stephanie's hand slip into mine, squeezing lightly and the loneliness evaporated. I squeezed her hand back.


End file.
